Love Unrequited
by for.serious
Summary: When left alone a love struck Esme realizes her feelings aren't likely returned.
1. Chapter 1

The light breeze blew through the pale pink buds of the trees, the pastel flowers, daffodils and tulips, swayed on their stems, and the sun shined vibrantly down on it all, bright rays sneaking through the glass windows. A delicate hand extended in the suns path, disrupting the straight line and causing an amazing sight. The hand reflected the light across the room, the skin looking as if dozens of multi-faceted diamonds had been embedded there. It was gorgeous, stunning, and amazing, something not everyone ever got the chance to see.

The sun's warmth radiated across her hand, causing the granite hard and cold skin to heat up slightly. The feeling was enjoyable, soothing and calming. But she didn't fail to see the abnormality of it and she pulled her hand away, tucking it close to her chest, cradling it there. With a quiet sigh she ducked her head down, touching the tips of her fingers to her cheek, noting the warm feeling. The slight temperature change wasn't something she would have normally been able to recognized, had she not been what she was; a vampire.

It had been four quick years since she had left behind her previous life as a human, and it all seemed like a blur. An excruciatingly difficult, pivotal, lesson learning four years that just flew by. There had been so much she had needed to learn, so much she had forced herself to change, cases where she had to go against the grain of what was instinctual for what she had been transformed into. The months hadn't passed unscathed and she had had her fair share of slip-ups, but there was one defining person that had remained Esme's rock through it all.

Carlisle. Esme was positive, had Carlisle not been there, she would have given up, begged for death to come a second time. He was the one that had saved her, offered her a chance in this second life. He was there when she needed him, comforting her when she had taken the blood of a human, convincing her it was alright, even though she knew it wasn't. Carlisle fought hard to keep her safe, out of temptation's way, willing to do whatever her newborn self had needed. He was kind, caring, intelligent, and patient. And Esme would be lying if she said he wasn't gorgeous. With pale blond hair that was swept away from his face, warm, brilliant, topaz eyes and a discretely toned, tall physique.

Thinking about him caused imaginary butterflies to flutter in her abdomen, her head to spin, and had she had the ability her skin would have surely flushed. The feelings she contained were alien, nothing she had ever encountered before, however, she had an inkling idea of what it all was. It was something she had read in various novels, reading as authors explained and described it; love. Yet, the writers gave it no credit, the feelings and thoughts behind it all, it was so much more what they wrote. She knew; she loved Carlisle.

Her face fell as she declared her feelings toward Carlisle in her mind and she shook her head slightly, a thin strand of her caramel hair falling across her face. She crossed the room, easing herself into the cream colored love-seat and crossing one of her legs over the other. Her hand came up to tuck the escaped hair behind her ear and then went to rub her slightly prickling eyes. Had she been human the salty tears would have been filling them, threatening to escape.

Human life was a had-been. Something of the past, an experience that would forever be a memory. Human life had held nothing for Esme in the end, and that was how she had happened upon the life she lived now. But she didn't leave that life scar free. She had been married and it had failed. Esme was convinced that she had done something wrong, that she was the factor that had caused it all to fall apart, and she was convinced that this life wouldn't hold anything for her. She wouldn't love as Carlisle had explained to her years ago the way their kind would. She was tainted and undeserving, yet she was, without a doubt, falling for the one person that kept her here.

Carlisle deserved someone more, she continued to tell herself when she would have these little breakdowns. He didn't deserve someone that couldn't offer herself to him completely. Esme had been previously taken from another man, she had messed it up. Carlisle didn't need that. The sweet, giving doctor of humans should be loved by and love someone that wasn't scarred and bruised, tainted. Esme longed to be that, craved to be the one that could offer all he needed, and she knew she couldn't.

A barely audible and pathetic sob broke free of her chest in defeat, the would be tears prickling her eyes ferociously. She knew she didn't have long before she would need to recover from her meltdown and realization, he would be home soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Enjoy the next chapter. Please note that I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

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It never took long for Esme to recover from her moments of torture. The ones she would spend alone, Edward at school and Carlisle at the hospital, sobs raking through her delicate frame. Those times were the only ones where she could pity herself and dream about having come unscathed from the human life. But had that particular life been perfect, she wouldn't have found this one. As soon as she could hear either male in the distance she would pull herself together, forcing the pain aside.

While they were all like a family she could not let them see her hurting. Edward could surely pull everything from her thoughts, so she fought to distract her mind. There were some times where little bits would sneak through, and Edward would shoot her a concerned glance, but he never prodded. She would thank him in her mind, and things would continue on.

Carlisle was far too observant with her, always watching her every move, paying attention to her expressions. She was sure it was just because she was still young, still fighting the temptations Carlisle and Edward had learned to ignore. He couldn't risk them being revealed, so she needed to be watched. And Carlisle, the ever observant and caring doctor, took it upon himself to watch.

The particular breakdown of a few days ago was still fresh in her mind as she worked in the dining room, an antique jewelry box perched in front of her. The doors of the decade old piece were falling off hinges, portions of the drawers missing, and the finish on the wooden item would need to be redone. Esme had taken up restoring various antiques after her first newborn year had passed, when her mind was finally capable to concentrate on things other than feeding.

Carlisle had been beyond supportive. Bringing furniture home after his long shifts at the hospital, explaining to her that it was nothing when she'd object to him buying her things. It was always the same story; money was not an issue and he wanted her to have something to do while cooped up in the house, he wanted her to be happy. Those words, though nothing more than Carlisle's usually courteous nature, would once more illicit the fluttering in her abdomen, the invisible blush coating her cheeks.

Sure fingers moved quickly across the box, a tiny screwdriver in one hand made work with removing the screws and hinges on the doors. All her supplies lay organized on the table, everything in its correct spot for easy finding. Carlisle had also took it upon himself to purchase anything she may have needed, and some things she probably didn't, for her projects. Esme was grateful that he was such a kind and generous man, always open to helping and assisting those around him.

Doors and drawers removed, Esme looked down at it all with her honey colored eyes, contemplating on where to begin. She ran her hand over the soft wood, noting little spots of roughness that would need to be sanded out. While a portion of her mind worked on the project in store, another part still thought about the man she had fallen in love with. And though she had concluded previously that he deserved more, that she did not deserve such a wonderful man, she could not lie to herself and deny the true feelings she felt toward him. So she had deduced that she would be forever the quiet lover, it would not hurt anyone but herself. And did she not deserve that after failing previously?

The sound of leaves crumbling under quick feet pulled her head up, her body tense and alert as she determined who was happening upon the property of their secluded home. A taste of the air immediately eased her defensive nerves, letting her return to her work. Another set of nerves caused the usual tingling sensation to course through her and she fought to keep her appearance neutral as the person approached the front door.

Carlisle was home from his shift, Edward would follow soon after his day's worth of courses. Esme turned her head to the front door as she listened to it open, her heightened senses able to pinpoint every movement Carlisle was making. An easy, welcoming smile spread across her face as she watched him step over the threshold.

He was dressed in his usual attire; a nice pair of pants, a long-sleeved, collared shirt with buttons that was always to be tucked in, and this time to keep up with appearances since today's weather was chilled, a black coat. He set down the black bag he was carrying by his feet before removing the jacket from his shoulders.

Esme watched and admired from her position. Noting the way the muscles in his back moved as he hung the jacket on the nearby coat hanger. How his pale hair fell out of place when he bent down to retrieve the bag again. The way he walked, confident and strong like the leader he was.

"Esme," he greeted with a curious smile as he met her staring eyes.

She had forgotten to look away and had been caught gazing freely at him. She looked down ashamed and embarrassed.

"How was work?" she asked, attempting to act as if nothing had happened. Her hands played with the drawers absently as she waited for his reply, refusing to look back up at him.

"It was a long shift," he explained, "But it's nice to be back home. What are you working on now?"

He walked to the table, setting his bag down before continuing on toward Esme. He stopped just beside her, topaz eyes focused on the now taken apart jewelry box. The close proximity caused a shiver to travel up her spine and she longed to reach out and touch the arm closest to her. But instead she took a small step to the side before answering.

"Just another project," she answered timidly, finally looking at him. He was gazing at the wooden pieces, surely analyzing the entire thing just as he always did. Esme was sure it was the doctor in him that caused him to observe and determine things the way he did. It was another one of the many things she had fallen in love with.

"It looks like it's coming along nicely," he told her, turning to look up at her again. He smiled kindly at her and she noted the small dimple in one of his cheeks as she looked over his face. She swam in his smiles, a gesture of his that she enjoyed thoroughly, never failing to cause her to smile in return.

"Thank you," she replied, lifting one hand to tuck a stray strand of her hair back as she glanced at her work. "It's not much now, but I have plans for it. Right now, it's just a jumbled mess of junk, wait until it's finished." In her mind she pictured the possibilities she could create and how she would enjoy putting her work to use.

Looking back at him she was surprised to find him staring at her, just as she had him. Their eyes met, but neither looked away. The look in his eyes was completely new to Esme, not something she had ever seen from him or noticed before. They were like molten pools of gold lava, burning with an emotion alien to her. Her stomach tightened and her knees felt weak as they failed to break from each other's stare. The emotions Esme strived to keep back were threatening to escape, dying to break free of their barriers and confess everything to Carlisle.

The sound of a door opening and the clearing of a throat that had lost that need many years before pulled the two away from each other. Carlisle turned his attention to the new arrival while Esme turned away to stare at the wall, her eyes once again prickling with the tears that would never come.

"Hello Edward," Carlisle greeted, acting as if they hadn't gotten caught staring each other down.

"Carlisle. Esme," Edward greeted in return, his voice even and non-questioning, though Esme was sure his face said otherwise.

She turned toward the younger man, not meeting his eyes as she nodded her own greeting, trying to keep her face neutral as usual. Her hands fidgeted in front of her uncomfortably. "I'm going to go up to my room," she said quickly, gesturing to the table, "Don't bother cleaning this up, I'll get to it later."

She excused herself from the room, not bothering to look at either of them, at her vampiric speed. Once the door was shut behind her she flew to her bed, sprawling down on the comforter, face in the pillows.

So much emotion coursed through her then. But nothing amounted to the hurt she felt, the pain that was crushing her now.

She had willed herself to believe she had saw such raw emotion in Carlisle's eyes. Her own unrequited love was making her believe that she was seeing things, impossible things. Esme had already concluded before, time and time again that she couldn't be loved in such a way. That she wouldn't allow a man such as Carlisle to love her. And the idea that she had seen her own love for him reflected in his eyes was unbelievable. She idly wondered if their kind could go crazy, that she was just losing her mind, as a silent sob shook her, the sound muffled by the pillows.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here is Chapter Three. I hope you enjoy. Once again, note that I do not own Twilight or any of the characters affiliated with the saga.**

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The weather outside had changed. Shifting from the chilled spring days to the hot ones of summer. Everything was in full bloom; every leaf on the trees was the most vibrant of greens, the flowers opened completely, their colorful petals soaking up the sun's rays.

Carlisle had continued with his shifts at the hospital, taking those primarily during the night, not wanting to risk getting caught on one of these sun-filled days. Edward was taking the summer off, allowing himself a break between semesters, taking up new hobbies and perfecting his old. With one of them around most, if not all, the time left Esme with little time to think about and contemplate the predicament she had created.

It had been many weeks since she had last fled the dining room, leaving both men behind confused and worried about her reaction. She had heard them talking downstairs, or more so just Edward talking; with the ability to read minds Carlisle never found it necessary to speak when having a conversation with the younger vampire. Esme's mind made it possible to recollect what she had heard spot on, even now after so many days since it had happened.

...

She had been laying there, head first in the pillows, willing herself to disappear from the humiliating position she had just put herself in and to escape the crushing heartbreak she was feeling. It had been a careless act to storm out of the room like that, visibly upset. She had fought hard to keep the barriers up, pretend she was alright on the outside, leaving both men oblivious to the turmoil within. But she had just revealed that she clearly wasn't always okay, there was no hiding it now.

Cheek resting comfortably against the soft pillowcase she stared off at one of the walls, the particular portion bare of any decor. She had ceased all movement as she lay there, the previous sobs no longer shaking her frame. Her ears pricked to the noises downstairs, easily picking up on Edward's smooth and hesitant voice.

"It's not my place to tell you," he said. Surely talking about what was wrong with her, the reasoning behind her shutting herself away from the two of them.

She could hear the slight rustle of fabric on fabric before Edward spoke again. "Both."

The particular comment came off odd in Esme's mind, causing her brow to hitch up in confusion. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but decided that if they were going to talk about her, she had every right to listen in. Especially now, when all her inner emotions could possibly be shared among them all.

She almost thought she heard a slight chuckle, something barely noticeable come from Edward, but passed it off as the talking continued. "Well," he began, "It's something you're doing and something you're not doing. And that's all I'm going to say. You two are going to have to talk. Figure things out. Both of you are missing things, big things. The sooner you both realize it, the better your lives will be."

And with that Edward had left the room only to retreat to his own bedroom. Leaving Carlisle speechless, and surely just more confused, on the first floor while Esme lay equally as confused on her bed.

...

A quick tap on the frame of the door pulled Esme's head up from her work. She was surprised that she hadn't heard his approach sooner despite being lost in her memories.

Edward stood in the door, leaning easily against the frame. His bronze hair more disheveled than ever, his honey colored eyes shifting to the still incomplete jewelry box. A small smile turned up the corner of his lips as he noticed it, clearly happy about it for some reason.

"I see you've taken to working on that piece again," he observed.

Esme glanced quickly down at the mess in front of her before nodding. "Yes, I figured I'd better get back to it."

Edward walked further into the room, pulling a chair out and taking a seat a few down from where Esme was stationed. "Why has it taken you so long to start on it again?" he asked innocently.

It had been a while since she had worked on it. In fact, she hadn't returned to the jewelry box since her little act. Not something she wanted to particularly work on, it usually brought on the memories of the look she had thought she saw in Carlisle's eyes. But, she was fond of the small little wooden antique and wanted to get a move on its restoration.

"You and Carlisle really need to talk," he said, having pulled everything from her thoughts before she had to say a thing. He put a hand up before she could protest that she had spoken to Carlisle, continuing, "I mean really talk. You haven't had a decent conversation since late spring, and I know it's hurting you both."

Esme wouldn't deny the words he spoke were true. They were. She had been distant since that day in the dining room, not wanting to see a mirage of emotion in Carlisle's eyes again. Most of their conversations since then were brief, few sentences being exchanged between them. They were awkward and tense. It was easy to see that both wanted to say more, but remained silent.

"I know," she confessed, ducking her head down.

"Trust me when I say I know what goes on in both of your minds," he said with a smirk, clearly trying to brighten her mood, "Both of you really need to talk. And I'm not talking some conversation about your day's events, but more along the lines about what is bothering the two of you."

Her brow furrowed, not liking the idea of Carlisle being bothered much. Edward just gave a chuckle before standing up and walking out of the room.

It was clear that he knew something that she didn't, she hadn't missed the hints in his words, the little push they gave. He was right too, they honestly needed to talk, it was unhealthy to live under the same roof the way they did. It was unhealthy for her to bottle her emotions up, hidden from all. The worst that could happen is that he would deny having any feelings toward her, but isn't that what she already figured? How much worse could it hurt hearing the words spoken aloud?

Her silent heart clenched at the thought, the pain that would ensue upon hearing those words spill from his mouth. She didn't want to have to do this, but knew she needed to. Once everything was out in the open, if it became too awkward, she could always live on her own, become a nomad if she had to. If that's what would make Carlisle's life easier. That's all that mattered to her, that that man stayed happy.

Picking up one of the drawers her delicate hands began sanding down the rough edges with the sandpaper Carlisle had supplied. It was then, as she really got to work with fixing up the jewelry box, that she decided she would confess her feelings to Carlisle. As soon as he returned home from his shift.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Here is the fourth and final chapter to this story. I'm sure you all know this, but, alas, I do not own Twilight or its characters.**

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Setting the pieces in her hand down she pulled her hands into her lap, twisting them together in anticipation. As she had sat there waiting for Carlisle's return she had gone over multiple scenarios, unsure of where to start or where to begin.

What was supposed to be said when you confessed you were in love with someone? Did people usually just do that, come straight forward and tell someone they had fallen in love with them? Did vampires? Wasn't love supposed to happen slowly, start as something small, a small flame that snailed its way into a burning fire? Why did this feel like it did start as a small thing in the pit of her stomach, but in a flash turn into something larger? Something that consumed her entirely.

She had concluded as she had started to panic that one thing was for sure. Love was confusing and that maybe it didn't work the same for everyone. Just like everyone was an individual, the way they fell in love was just as unique. It was a comforting thought and she had decided it did hold some sense to it.

Her ears pricked as she heard the familiar crunching of bracken on the forest floor not far from their secluded home. Taking in a deep breath of air she waited for a familiar scent to hit her nose. And, alas she did. It was Carlisle.

Those pretend butterflies started fluttering like crazy in her empty stomach. She felt as though she was going to be sick. All the possiblities about what she was about to confess swam in her mind. She had to calm down before Carlisle came into the house.

'Calm down, Esme,' she thought, attempting to ease her nerves.

Her eyes got wide as she looked up at the front door as it slowly opened and a black shoe covered foot stepped over the threshold. She took a deep, calming breath and she smiled, making it seem as though everything was alright.

"Esme," Carlisle called out.

A genuine smile graced her lips as she heard him speak her name.

"In here," she replied calmly.

She watched as he made his way into the dining room. He was dressed in his usual work attire; black slacks with a pale blue shirt tucked into them. His blonde hair was ruffled, like he had run his hands through it a lot. It is how he always looked when he came home from work.

"How was work?" she asked innocently.

"It was...work," he answered with a laugh. "It was a quiet night, not busy at all. How was your night?"

She went back to her work, sanding the edges of the wooden box. "It was nice, quiet," she replied.

Esme paused, staring at her work while she thought of what to say next. She knew she had to tell him, but she wasn't about to just blurt out her undying love to the blonde doctor. That would certainly be awkward. She chewed on her bottom lip absently as she contemplated what to say.

She looked up quickly from her work. "Can I talk to you?" she asked.

At that same moment Carlise spoke too. "Can we talk?" he inquired.

She smiled, amused as she responded. "Sure."

"Of course," Carlisle answered.

They both looked at each other and laughed. Carlisle shook his head, a large smile gracing his perfect face as he took a seat across the table from Esme. He lifted his hand and gestured toward her.

"Ladies first," he smiled, urging her to speak.

She cleared her mind, as much as she could, and took an unneeded breath to calm her quickly tensing nerves. "Well, I know things have been quiet between us," she started, staring down at the table, taking an interest in the way every grain of the wood pieced together perfectly, "And I can't help but feel that it is my fault."

Looking up briefly through her lashes she noted the confused expression on Carlisle's face, his blond brow contorted and scrunched.

"How so?" he asked curiously.

"I'm not sure how to explain it really without being so forward," she told him, her voice becoming quieter as she continued. "Before you changed me, I was lost. I had no reason to continue with my life. Everything I had ever loved and strived to make work had fallen to pieces. My only outlet was to remove myself from the world. I felt helpless, depression consumed my every being and dying seemed like my only way out."

She paused and shyly looked up at the doctor. He looked at her kindly and smiled warmly at her. His expression fueled her to continue.

"You found me after I had made my decision. I remember when I jumped from the cliff that I had no hope or faith that anything would be waiting for me on the other side. The only thing I was sure of was that I'd at least be able to escape the pain that had become my life."

She looked up again, finding Carlisle gazing at her intently. His face was slightly saddened as he listened to her explain, but his expression also held an assurance that urged her to go on.

"But rather than escaping into a black abyss of uncertainty I had woken up to you beside me. It was a sight to wake up to," she smiled as she recalled waking up after the excrutiating pain, "It was like you were an angel, guiding me into a new life. Hopefully a better one. At the time I didn't know that you were in fact just that, I only hoped. It was the first time, as I looked up at you, the burn in my throat screaming at me, that I felt hope despite the physical and emotional pain I had gone through."

The familiar prickling feeling behind her eyes began as she stared at her hands. The need to cry as she confessed her feelings to Carlisle, reliving some of her strongest memories and emotions, stronger than ever. She held her breath, unsure of how to keep going, but she didn't have to.

"When I saw you in the hospital," Carlisle spoke, "The second time. This time not the bright, vivid teenage girl of the past, but rather a hurt woman who felt the need to rid herself of life. It caused me to fall apart. I didn't understand. You had seemed like such a happy and caring person I couldn't believe that something so drastic had changed in you. That you could have wanted to just leave your life behind."

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. They held her there, the confident gold colored irises, begging her to understand just as she had tried with him.

"But then I heard your heart beat. Though quiet and excruciatingly slow, it gave me hope. That you were strong, that this was a sign that you did want to live, at least some part of you. So I changed you, hoping with every ounce of me that it was the right thing."

"As you changed and I watched every part of you transform, becoming even more beautiful than you already were, I was changing too," he confessed quietly, "At first I was unsure of what I was feeling, what emotions were running rampant through my veins as I watched the broken and battered you turn into the stunning and strong woman that sits across from me today."

Esme held his gaze, holding onto every word he said. Her physically dead heart was pulsing with emotion rather than blood, the emotion it pumped through her veins was consuming her. His sure and honest words would have surely caused her to blush had she had the ability. Her hands twisted in her lap as she took her bottom lip between her teeth, holding back any tear-less crying she wanted to do, and Carlisle continued.

"All of this is new to me," his voice wavered, "But I'm positive I know what it is."

The two stared at each other. Esme pouring out everything in her expression and drinking up the return from Carlisle.

"Me too," she whispered to him.

She pulled one of her hands free from her lap, slowly extending it across the table between them, unsure of where she suddenly found the courage to do such a thing.

Carlisle returned the gesture, meeting her small, delicate hand halfway with his stronger fingers, intertwining them. The contact spurred sparks to course through Esme's hand and through her body, the feeling welcome and wanted. She never wanted to let go of his hand now that she finally had hold of it.

She felt Carlisle squeeze her hand as a small, genuine smile spread across his face. "Esme," he whispered shyly, "I think I'm in love with you."

She returned the smile. "Carlisle, I am in love with you."


End file.
